“I thought you would be pleased,” said Julian.
“She is a faithless, treacherous, lying slave,” said Otto.
“Please, no, Master,” she had whispered.
“She is well curved,” said Julian.
“So are millions on thousands of worlds,” said Otto.
“I love you, Master. I want to serve you,” she whispered.
“Surely she is exquisite,” said Julian.
“As are innumerable others, all for one price or another,” said Otto.
“She bears the slave flower, to offer it to you,” said Julian.
“She is a collared slut,” said Otto. “She will offer it to whomsoever her master decides.”
“I think she would offer it to you,” said Julian.
“She is worthless,” said Otto.
“She might bring a decent price in a market,” said Julian.
“Perhaps,” said Otto.
There was little doubt as to this.
The slave’s handlers, who had prepared her for presentation to her master, had left little of her beauty to the imagination. Her breasts strained against the mockery of a skimpy bandeau of scarlet silk. A narrow, black, cloth cord was put twice, snugly, about her waist, and knotted, with a slip knot, at the left hip. This cord supported two narrow rectangles of scarlet silk. It also supplied a means whereby, if it were removed, she might be bound. Such features are not unusual in slave garments. A common variation on such a theme is a leather thong wound several times about the left ankle, and tied there. Is it an attractive decoration? Certainly, but it may also serve, with similar decorative appeal, as a bond. Her dark hair was bound back with a scarlet ribbon. On her neck there was a close-fitting, steel slave collar.
“Is your name ‘Flora’?” asked Julian, kindly.
“In the house they call me that, Master,” said the slave.
“Is it your name?” asked Julian.
“My name,” she said, “or even if I am permitted a name, is up to my master.”
She looked at Otto.
But he turned away from her.
“Look upon her, my friend,” urged Julian.
“Thank you, my friend,” said Otto, “for having seen to it that she has received some training. That will doubtless improve her price.”
“Have you not been permitted in this room,” asked Julian of the slave, “to offer the slave flower to your master?”
“Yes, Master,” she said, gratefully.
“Look upon her,” urged Julian.
Otto turned in the chair to regard the slave kneeling before him.
There were tears in her eyes.
“Please, Master,” she said, lifting the flower delicately, timidly, to Otto, “accept my slave flower.”
“It is worth less than that of a pig or dog,” snarled Otto.
She put her head down. “It is true that I am only a slave, Master,” she said.
“Keep it well in mind,” said Otto.
“Yes, Master,” she sobbed.
Julian lifted his hand to summon a guard, who would conduct the slave back to her quarters.
“Wait!” said Otto, suddenly, menacingly.
The slave looked up, frightened. Julian turned to him, puzzled. The guard hesitated to approach.
“There is now one in the house who should be well known to you,” said Otto.
“Master?” she asked.
“Do you remember the Alaria,” he asked, “and the supper at the captain’s table, with Pulendius, and others?”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“And surely you remember the purpose of your journey on the Alaria?”
“Of course, Master,” she said uneasily. It had been to take her to Miton, where she was to be wedded. The marriage had been arranged with great attention to detail. Genealogies had been checked, credentials and records had been examined, biographies had been scrutinized, and the earnings, and likely future earnings, of the prospective groom had been calculated with care. The marriage had been arranged largely through the offices of the girl’s mother and her friend, the mayor, of the small city on Terennia, which was, for the district, a juristic center. Both the girl’s mother and the mayor hoped, too, to profit significantly from so favorable an alliance, soon following the girl to the first provincial quadrant, and perhaps even, later, the first imperial quadrant. Pictorials had been exchanged. The prospective groom was, of course, a same, as was the prospective bride, a matter which was of great consequence to the mother and her friend, the mayor. That was almost as important as the prospective groom’s position and income. With respect to the latter, he was, at the time, a level-four civil servant in the financial division of the first provincial quadrant. The marriage was calculatedly favorable, too, on the count of genealogy, as the prospective groom was of the 103rd degree of the Ausonii, and the bride of the 105th degree of the Auresii. The prospective bride’s name was Tribonius Auresius, and the prospective groom’s name was Tuvo Ausonius. The marriage did not take place, of course, as the Alaria, as it may be recalled, failed to enter orbit at Miton, having perhaps encountered some mishap en route.
“Two sames are currently under arrest in this house,” said Otto. “Perhaps rumors of this have reached you.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“But, too, we may regard them as guests,” said Otto.
“Master?” she asked.
“One is a female, whose name, as related, is simply ‘Sesella’,” said Otto.
“Yes, Master,” said the slave.
“The other is a male, whose name is Tuvo Ausonius,” said Otto.
“Tuvo Ausonius!” cried the slave.
“I see the name is meaningful to you,” said Otto.
“You remember something of this matter, too, do you not?” Otto inquired of Julian.
“Yes,” said Julian. “I do.”
“I was to wed him!” cried the slave. “He was my fiancé. I was his betrothed!”
“You were a free woman,” said Otto.
“Certainly, Master,” said the slave.
“What are you now?” asked Otto.
“A slave,” she said.
“And do you not think it is fitting that a guest be shown hospitality in a house?”
“Oh, no, no, Master!” she cried. “Please, no, Master!”
“Oh?” asked Otto.
“I hate him!” she cried. “It was an arranged marriage! I wanted nothing of it! It was the doing of my mother and another! I hated him! I despised him! I intended to make his life miserable, even to ruin him!”
“Surely you do not think that he is interested in wedding you now, do you?” asked Otto.
“No, Master,” she said, “for I am now a slave, no more than an animal.”
Otto regarded her.
“No, no, Master!” she cried.
“What is the room of Tuvo Ausonius?” asked Otto of Julian.
He was told.
“How is it reached?” asked Otto.
He was informed.
“You have heard?” asked Otto.
“Yes, Master,” said the slave, dismayed.
“You are sent to him,” said Otto. “And take with you the slave flower. It is to be offered to Tuvo Ausonius.”
“No, no!” she wept.
“Go,” said Otto.
“Yes, Master,” she wept.